


Coming Back Around

by rileyblxu (crownofplanets)



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Scene, F/M, POV switches from canon, im sorry i dont know how to tag shit, it's that scene, the one that had us all holding our breath until we passed out, yeah that one, you know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 04:03:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10153268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownofplanets/pseuds/rileyblxu
Summary: William Magnusson has a final stop before he heads to the airport.





	

Noora’s words were hitting him like bricks, falling down from somewhere above. Her accusations were the only ones that had ever gotten to William, out of all of the people he knew (and he knew many), and were now getting to him like they never had before; like pieces of broken glass sticking into his heart, and then twisting. It was not unlike Noora to accuse him of some thing or other, she had done so many times before that moment. She'd painted him an asshole, and that hadn't hurt nearly as much as these new —but somehow old— words did.

She told him that many people endured hardships and yet they managed to smile and be kind. His thoughts conjured up her face, like an unknown masterpiece in a dark, humid shed, waiting to be discovered by a museum. She was standing right in front of him, trying to make him stay; and he was standing there, facing her, and he was trying to get away.

She told him it was a choice; being the cold asshole he was being, was a choice. It was also a choice to let Niko destroy what they had, and suddenly there was a knot in his throat, and he couldn’t breathe. His stomach shrunk into the size of a penny and he felt a wave of rage wash through him.

His blood boiled at the mere mention of his brother’s name, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look Noora in the eyes. Everything was his fault. Noora had been through something no one should ever go through and it was _his fault_. Had he only kept her in bed that one morning, had he told his brother he loved her, or that she was his girlfriend right away, none of it would have happened. How could he ever forgive himself? How could he ever hug her, kiss her, even look at her after what he'd put her through? Neither of them deserved it: she didn't deserve the constant reminder, like a weight on her shoulders she couldn't shake off. She didn't deserve to look in the eyes of the man who had put her through hell. And William didn't deserve to look in her eyes, period.

But the words kept coming, only he was barely listening to them now. The pain was too great, and the shame of feeling it, even worse. He didn't get the right to be heartbroken.

William felt underwater, when all the sounds you hear are but muffled whispers that seem miles away. He could hear Noora’s voice, but it felt distant and quiet, like he was.

Noora took a step toward him, chest to chest, cheek to cheek. She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, her fingers burning a path up his cheekbone.

William couldn't remember the last time he'd been touched by her in such gentle manner. He remembered her begging hands, tugging with new-found force at his sleeve. He remembered his brute attempts to shake off her grasp, and the bitter taste in his mouth when he finally managed to leave her behind on the floor, crying and hopeless. The memory was like a punch to his stomach; it knocked the wind out of him and left him breathless and in pain. He would never again hurt her. He felt a burning ache to pull away, but something small in size but enormous in strength kept his feet anchored in place.

“Because people,” she whispered, following a thought William had missed completely, “need people,”

His mind recognized his own words in Noora’s lips. The tip of her nose was tracing figures on his cheek and she wanted him to look at her, but he couldn't.

“I love you,” she said.

William couldn’t figure out if it was a last resort, one last attempt at making him stay. Her words, however, smelled true, or maybe it was just her familiarity, and the way her face fit perfectly against his face and how her eyes glistened when he looked at her for a split second.

“And you love me,” she added, not to contradict him when he'd said he didn’t, but because in that moment, Noora Sætre only spoke the truth of the world.

“We have to be together.” Another certainty of the universe, or at least spoken that way, yet she still sought confirmation: “Tell me we should be together,”

Her hand burnt his jaw where she touched it, delicately trying to bring his eyes to hers.

He couldn't understand the reason behind her gentle words and soft touch. How could she love him after it all?

They looked at each other then, eyes meeting and sinking deep into the clearness of their stares. Everything —the birds, the cars, the pressure of the world and time— went into a halt. It was almost a religious experience, like staring into the eyes of God and realizing he was not only human, but a woman as well. No one had more love and kindness to give than she who stood before him. Noora's lips could blow life into a man's nostrils and her small, soft hands could raise the heavens high. It felt like two asteroids clashing together after centuries of missing each other. A celestial event. Her eyes shone bright in victory, a few strands of her hair falling in the way, but still no less powerful. She was a goddess, William thought, and she’d destroyed him.

It took every ounce of will that he had in him to walk away, and he found it in the strangest of places.

“I have to go,” he whispered, the words scratching and clawing their way up William's throat. Painful.

And he did.

And he thanked the stars he hadn’t seen her last expression, at first surprised when faced with her unexpected failure to keep him close, but then broken and in the brink of tears.

He willed his eyes to look forward, to the road and not behind him.

“Dude,” Chris said, eyes ahead, “are you sure you wanna do this?”

William looked at him without an answer, unsure of what he wanted. He couldn’t believe he’d actually managed to get in the car.

“Just drive,” he said instead.

Noora’s words still echoed in his mind, etching themselves into the deepest parts of him that he’d only let her see. He had loved her. He still loved her. He was willing to wallow in misery for the rest of his days in London if it meant Noora could be happy. That’s how he knew.

But then again, he was cold and selfish, right? Wether that was a choice or who he was, it was in that moment a part of him. He was selfish. So selfish he couldn't deny himself the privilege of looking at Noora every day of his life.

It was at a red light that it finally struck him: he’d gone to Noora not to say goodbye, or to let her explain, but because he wanted her to convince him to stay by her side. And it had taken a few moments longer than expected, but it’d worked.

“Go back,” William said in a monotone, eyes open like plates in realization.

“What?” Chris laughed in surprise, smiling in disbelief at his dumb friend when he realized William wasn’t _that_ stupid, if a bit late.

“Go the fuck back, Chris!” William shouted, looking behind him at a clear road.

William’s pulse quickened. His blood pumped through his body faster than it ever had before. The logic behind his departure became rapidly illogical in his own eyes, and suddenly he couldn’t believe he’d been about to leave the only girl he’d loved in a long time.

“Ok, calm down, I’m gonna turn here—” Chris pointed to his right, just as the light turned yellow.

“Just put it in reverse, there’s no one behind us! Go!” William’s voice was so full of emotion Chris couldn’t do anything but oblige.

William’s mind was racing with thoughts of Noora and how much he loved her. All of the things they’d gone through invaded his mind, like a movie playing over and over, reminding him of both the good and the bad. After all he’d done to win her heart, after Noora had learned to trust him, had opened up and began loving him as well, he couldn’t give up. Not now that Niko was out of the picture. Not now that he’d realized none of that had been Noora’s fault. Not now that he knew she still loved him, and that it was clear she'd be more devastated by his leaving than by his staying behind.

Noora was facing away from him. She was talking on the phone to someone, and William’s heart ached at the possibilities: she could be cursing at him for having left her, or crying to a friend in need of support. He wouldn’t be able to handle Noora crying because of him. Not again.

He opened the car door even before it came to a full stop, and he started walking. Chris cursed loudly behind him, but now nothing mattered but Noora.

She was making her way back to the apartment, cluelessly walking away from William, and he hurried his pace so he could reach her, touch her, feel her sadness disappear before his eyes.

The tips of his fingers buzzed, eager as they reached for her shoulders, charged with the electrical current of all things unsaid.

His strong hands grabbed at her shoulders, the soft fabric of her shirt crumbling under his fingers, and he turned her around.

William smiled when he saw her face. Her eyes were glossy and her expression sad, but as soon as her eyes recognized him, and her brain caught on to the fact that he was standing there, smiling as widely as he ever could, and that he would stay, the most beautiful grin spread on her face, and William’s heart became so big, he thought it would explode.

He was soon wrapped in the warmth of her arms, smiling into the crook of her neck.

In an entirely different part of Oslo, Eva Mohn shouted for her friend over the phone.

"Noora? Noora! What's happening?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed my little story here; I really wanted to figure out the train of thought behind William's return to Noora.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated :)


End file.
